"She was wrong you know that, right? Angela was wrong." Bones finally broke her long contemplative silence as they lay curled together in the dark in her bed. "We don't need a babymoon." The topic surprised him.

"What?"

"I don't want to go on a babymoon."

The last few weeks were hard as they systematically revealed their secret to family, friends, co-workers and colleagues, select groups at a time. They endured both criticisms and congratulations to their face and behind their backs. Subject to long looks and constant whispers, they were at the center of office gossip. A place neither of them had much tolerance for. Twice now Booth called for the attention of the entire bullpen only to lay down the law. Yes, they were together. Yes, she was pregnant. But they were professional and he expected his team to be professional about this too. The second time he addressed them was pretty much the same as the first with one exception. Being professional, he announced, didn't include spreading gossip. He expected any obvious stares, whispers behind their backs, and judgements to be kept out of their presence. There might of been a thinly veiled threat in there.

Booth came out of his early morning briefing to find Bones pacing in his office. Glass windows revealed an angry partner. Arms wrapped tightly around her body he watched as she brought one hand up to her lips only to resist chewing on her fingernails. He opened the door closing it quickly behind him. There she was, making a quick turn on her heal, hurt, crying, and more publically emotional than he could remember ever seeing her. Pointing to a copy of the newspaper she laid out on his desk she waited for him to scan the pages and find the offending piece. Her publicist took the liberty of announcing to the world that, "famous American crime novelist Dr. Temperance Brennan finally comes clean about her relationship with her real life 'Andy Lister,' FBI partner SSA Seeley Booth, and announces the couple will be happily welcoming a baby in the spring."

All night he thought that was the reason she so quiet, thinking, processing.

"You only caught part of the conversation." Booth pointed out. His warm hand, which gently made its way back and forth along her waist and over her hip stopped to slide down to her knee pulling her leg up and over his body. She hummed in satisfaction. Close, completely bare, she loved being like this with him, cuddling as they talked late into the night.

"I am very intelligent, Booth, I caught enough. Between what I overheard her say to you and what I know of Angela I can easily extrapolate the rest."

Angela caught him when he walked into the Jeffersonian to pick Bones up after work. Grabbing his arm and pulling him into her office, insistent she talk to him before Brennan knew he was there. Good intentions or not she was nosy. In the name of helping her socially inept friend she was constantly putting herself in the middle of their relationship. What Booth couldn't get Angela to understand was that he loved Bones just the way she was, every little socially awkward bone in her body. All of which he was very aware of. They didn't need a mediator, they would work it out.

"Hmmm. You can, huh?"

"Yes, I can." She settled in closer. The movement of her body against his pulled a long deep guttural moan from him. One that brought satisfaction no matter how many times she heard it. "She was very pleased with our coupling but has since insisted that we were robbed of some type of 'first time' passionate fantasy sex. She insists we deserve that after so many years of anticipation and waiting."

"First time fantasy sex, huh?"

"Yes, apparently the way we consummated our relationship doesn't qualify. I'm a little sketchy on the details but apparently it has to be up against a wall or in some risky public location or clothing has to be ripped to qualify. Since none of those occurred during our first time she feels like we need a babymoon to get away for the sole purpose of having fantasy sex."

"Fantasy sex."

"Yes. I assume over the years you have had fantasies about having sex with me."

"Well, yeah." She felt his lips press against her forehead as he pulled her just a little closer. This right here, this moment, the two of them so comfortable with each other, so casual, like this, that was a fantasy. Though, he would be quick to admit, there were more, countless fantasies over the years, most of which were not the least bit as chaste. "And you disagree with the fantasy sex babymoon?"

Regardless of what Bones might think he was pretty sure the stress and pressure of all this change, the looks and judgements of others, and finally this invasion of privacy by her publicist was behind Angela's suggestion. Though it sounded like this babymoon thing was an active topic of discussion for quite sometime.

"Yes, well, let me clarify. I do not disagree with fantasy sex. It's the babymoon I disagree with for several reasons." Booth was expecting a long list of carefully thought out arguments ranked in order of weight and priority. She surprised him. "It was perfect, our night, our first time, was perfect. I wouldn't change it...if I could...I wouldn't want to. Well, other than Vincent Nigel-Murray's death. I would change that, though I do believe it was an integral part of how and why things happened the way they did." She was lost in a lengthy explanation as she tried to verbally reconcile her young interns death and the perfectness of the night they shared. Booth stopped her.

"I know what you mean." She nodded her acceptance against his chest as a silence fell between them and lingered.

They both fell into their memories of that night, drifting back to that dark night they shared in his bed. She came to him for comfort. He waited all day for her to do that, determined that he would be available but not push her. And when she came, when she let him see her tears, let him feel the depth of her pain, when she asked if she could stay, he finally got to do what he wanted to do all along, he held her. He pulled her down into his bed and he held her and whispered comfort to her and gently stroked her. It was such a relief to finally be able to do that. And when it was clear she was staying he pulled the blankets up around them, cocooned her in his safety. He thought she was drifting off to sleep when she whispered her deepest fear. One he knew all too well.

"Booth, it could have been-" He cut her off.

"You, it could have been you, Temperance. I could have handed you the phone. I would have if Vincent wasn't there. It could've been you. I could have been standing over..." There was a deep pain to his voice, it trembled and shook so that he couldn't even finish the thought. She felt his fear, his loss, his relief, his love. She felt it so clearly because she knew it, it was her own. It was everything she was feeling.

"It could have been you, Booth." Having been there before, huddled over his dying body, she had real memories to attach to her fear.

That's when it happened. When his hand slipped under the sweatshirt he loaned her onto the small of her back. Her eyes fell shut as a wave of desire radiated through her entire body. She found herself frozen, afraid that if she moved or spoke or took a breath he would realize where his hand was and take it way.

"That night you gave me everything I needed." This sweet baby of theirs in her growing belly lay pressed up against him, between them. Evidence of what their love made. She hemmed and hawed, trying to articulate emotions, it was hard for her to give them voice. When she finally found the words, they were always poignant and powerful. "You have taught me almost everything I know about love, Booth, and that night you made it all become real. All the words, all the lessons, all the theories came to life." His hand slipped onto her beautiful pregnant belly as she spoke. Their child kicked under his hand. Real. Their love became real in more than one way that night.

"We gave each other everything, Bones. It wasn't just me giving you what you needed or wanted. It wasn't just you giving it to me. It was us. It was mutual."

When she came to bed with him he told himself that no matter what he couldn't let this be the night things went farther than they ever had. He never wanted her to look back on that night and feel like he took advantage of her grief. He would hold her, he would reassure her, wipe her tears, and comfort her but he needed to respect her. It shifted in that moment when she vocalized the very possibility that one of them could have died. It all changed when he finished what she started to say mirroring her fear. The need to have her close became overwhelming. And when his hand touched her skin, when the electricity of that moment shot through him, suddenly he wanted more than anything to feel every bit of her living breathing body. He needed it. He fought it. Leaving his hand there on the soft warm skin of her lower back wrestling with his desire. His thumb swept back and forth as he tried to think his way through his feelings and regain control of his swiftly tilting world.

She didn't jump or startle. She didn't ask him to move it away or tell him to stop. In true Bones fashion she answered with a silent move of her own. Releasing the fisted grip she had on his t-shirt she moved her hand down to the hem of his shirt. Without hesitation she slipped her hand purposefully underneath the edge of it. Even. They were even, both feeling the warmth of the other's skin under the hesitant but insistent touch of their own hands. There was no way she missed how this affected him. Her head on his chest rose and fell as he struggled to breath.

The memory of that first night together was affecting her, he could feel it as her hand retraced its path more confident from months of reassurance and love. It made him smile. This is how it should be between them. Fate. Whether she believed in it or not he did. He saw its hand in their lives, in their love. He felt a growing nervousness in her, a fidgety discomfort. She got this way when she was having a hard time fitting emotions into her strict world of scientific parameters.

"I have desired many men over the years."

"Bones." She never did seem to understand why the conversation of other men bothered him so much.

"I have. I have felt that desire to be physically...sexually...close...to someone as I am sure you have too. To want to feel my body pressed up against the object of my desire." He bristled. "There is a physiology to it, Booth, chemicals released that signal the body telling an individual: this is a good mate. That biological imperative urges us to procreate and ensures the continuation of the species." She wasn't making things any better. This chemistry versus love thing had been a longstanding issue between them. "But, but, I have never felt what I felt that night with you. I... felt...it felt like...it was beyond chemicals, beyond biological imperatives, beyond desire. It wasn't a want, Booth, I needed to be close to you."

That settled him. "I understand." She felt his hand pull in then splay out across her skin like it had that first night.

Pulling her body closer to his own in a desperate attempt at an impossible closeness. Each stroke firmer, each pull more demanding. Like that night, their first night together, in the cool dark of his bedroom where the feel of his hand along her spine left her speechless, breathless, and painfully unfulfilled. He was so careful, cautious, not to let his hand stray too far under that old grey sweatshirt. Limiting himself to the length and breadth of her back. Appeasing himself, he kissed her forehead, her temple, her cheek, encouraged by the soft sounds of her pleasure and acceptance. Her own lips turned to him, leaving breathy kisses wherever they touched.

"I'm here." He reassured her. "We're safe." But it only served as a reminder of all they could have lost. Before he could say anything more she kissed him. Strong and passionate, open, it said what she couldn't find the words for. Each touch, each kiss, meant to fulfill their need and stay their tumble over the edge, only served to feed it. In desperation she whispered against his neck.

"I need..." She couldn't finish it, no air, no words, only need. Their bodies brushed up against each other as they lay there, each move left them more entangled, a little closer, knotted together.

"I know." Booth's heart raced as he rolled them over his hand slipping purposefully to her stomach. "I know what you need." He knew because he needed it too. The draw, the ache to be closer, born out of their desperate circumstances. Flashes of the day, of blood and loss, drove them. His fingers danced on her skin edging up towards her ribs as her body rose up to meet his. He wouldn't lose her, he refused to lose her. She clung to him, never letting his body completely separate from hers.

A tug on his shirt and it was off. Temporarily frozen by the feel of her lips on his chest and over his shoulders he cradled her body under his. His head falling to her shoulder. Her hands pushed against the waistband of his sleep pants, he felt her silent plea for more. Layers fell away, pushed, shoved, kicked away, leaving nothing but two bare bodies pressed together, tangled in protection of one another.

There were no lengthy acts of foreplay. No passionate slam against a wall. No ripping or tearing of clothes. No skittering buttons that scattered as they hit the floor. No sexy lingerie. No teasing or taunting to build excitement and anticipation. No hand sliding down a steamy shower door. It was none of the things Angela said it should have been. Nothing about their first time together was on either of their long lists of fantasies about this eventuality. But it was perfect, perfect for them.

They couldn't wait. Time, it seemed, was an enemy that chased them. It almost cost them this moment, almost stole it away. There was a relief in their coupling, a safety, a peace. It felt sacred, hallowed. It stilled them. For the first time all day it seemed like they could finally breathe.

It was in that moment her world stopped spinning out of control and righted itself. She felt safe and whole. Alive. Booth gave that to her. With each gentle pull, each countering push their bodies found a new and beautiful rhythm. It was power they shared as they buried themselves deeper and deeper into each other, giving everything they had to one another. There was no Broadsky, no death, no fear or guilt, no pain. It was just them, just love. Love they clung to long after as he wrapped his body around hers and they finally slept. Their lives forever changed.

"You wanna know what I think...about the whole babymoon thing?" Booth's voice broke the reverie of their memories.

"Yes." She whispered. "I do."

"Right, well, I think it's none of Angela's business." He could feel her resistance. Cutting her off, he continued, before she could launch into a full scale defense of her best friend's good intentions. "Wait, hear me out, okay? It isn't her business or Sweets' or Noble's or Cam's or even Cullen's. No one gets to decide what's best for us or right for us but us."

"What's ours is ours." She could practically feel the brush of his fingers through her hair, remember the look in his eyes like it was happening right then. It was one of the many partner rules Booth had given her over their years together.

"That's right. It's ours." He must be remembering it too as his strong thick fingers played with her hair gently smoothing it back behind her ear. "This is ours." Settling back into him she agreed. There was a comfort in his simple proclamation. "You wanna know what else?"

"Yes."

"We've had a lot of change in our lives. Vincent's death, our relationship, this beautiful baby, spending our days and nights together." Low and gentle, his voice, calmed her worries. "I think that's the real reason Angela keeps pushing this babymoon thing. But, you wanna know what I know?"

"Yes."

"My girl loves her work." Booth kissed her forehead. "I think it makes you happy and brings you peace and I don't think a babymoon is what you need right now. I don't think it would make you happy to leave your work right now." Booth understood her like no person on this earth.

Angela fought this part of her telling her repeatedly that she needed loosen up, take a vacation, be more spontaneous, all things that were contrary to the core of who she was and how she handled herself. Angela wanted the best for wanted her to find peace the way she found peace. But resting, getting away from everything to do nothing, that wasn't Bones. Booth knew her, loved her just the way she was. Pushing her slowly towards personal growth and change, at her pace. A fast gasp for air, a jerk of her body, followed by her tears falling on his bare chest.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, you're okay." He comforted her. "But...maybe...we can go out of town for a long weekend, you know, somewhere quiet, away from everything, just us. A compromise. It'll get Angela off your back about the babymoon and we can take a break from all the attention. We can leave a little early from work on Friday and be back at work by Monday or Tuesday. Whaddya think?"

"I could do that." She was hesitant but tempted. A small cabin, rustic, one Booth visited as a boy with Pops and Jared. He wanted to show it to her. They could hike the trails, fish on the lake, visit this really old cemetery with cool headstones, cook on the woodstove, it sounded ideal. "It sounds beautiful."

"Good, I'll make the arrangements." He moved her reverently. Laying her on her back then stretching himself so his body lay long and lean against hers. "Oh, and one more thing." Booth's hands traveled, lightly brushing along her outstretched frame. Teasing, watching as her eyes fell shut and her breath quickened with each tempting pass of his hand. "I think that night was perfect too, better than any fantasy I ever had, Bones." Leaning down he kissed her on the forehead, the temple, her cheek, before turning his attention to her lips. Pulling back just a little he let his finger trace her sweet lips. "You know what I'll never forget?" She didn't, but couldn't speak she was so lost in his loving touch. "I'll never forget waking up a few hours later and realizing it was real, not a dream. It was finally real."

Ribbons of light and shadow cut through the shutters in his bedroom that morning. Spreading out across her body, twisted in nothing but his sheets. The light revealed what the dark had hidden. In awe he lay next to her tracing the long lines across the deep hollow of her back, edging all the way down the curve of her hip. Angry at the sheet for covering her. He could have stayed there forever, watched her sleep forever, but his touch had already roused her. Stirring, she rolled over and stretched. Not a hint of self consciousness, her body spread out next to his among the sheets in an ultimate act of trust. Stealing his breath away with a sight even his fantasies pailed in comparison to. Both let the back of his hand drift over each curve and ridge. How vivid and clear the memory of that morning was.

Pulling her arms up over her head he mimicked that morning. Each touch, each kiss, an act of devotion, reverently placed. Sliding his hands up her arms until they met and interlocked.

"This is ours." Booth whispered in between kisses and gentle strokes. "What's ours is ours."

0oooo0oooo0

A/N: So, out of curiosity, do you prefer A/N before or after the chapter? I'm sure I'm overthinking it. I do that quite often as crafyjhawk and snowybones can attest. :-) I have them to thank for reassurance and editing help, as always!

Thank you for reading and for all your wonderful reviews and encouragement! They keep me writing and posting! Only a chapter or two left in this one.